I'm a computer programmer, but I also read palms, sort of like a hobby. It's an odd combination, and I have never been trained in it; palm-reading is just something I started as a lark, and I have no clue what I am doing - I just look at a palm and say whatever comes to mind, yet it seems that what I say resonates with the listener - and with some quite strongly. I can tell you verifiable stories of things I could not have known, but in one quick amusing story, in some remote town, I asked to see the waitress's palm, she turned her hand over, and I just said "You're a very private person." She immediately went  into the back of the restaurant, refused to come back to our table, and then just left and went home while another server took our table. Just one of many stories where people have reacted strongly - lol.

So, at the Chili's near BWI, a couple of years ago, I thought I would read the palm of my waiter. I don't usually read men's palms, because they usually are more uncomfortable with it - maybe it's just the fact that there's a strange man holding their hand in public, at their work, where everyone can see lol. 

But I did feel the urge to ask to see his palm, and he was curious, and immediately saw a broken life line - and it had a well-defined gap, with a bridging line beside it - something I had never seen before. I said:

"You died. It was about a year ago."

He confirmed that he had been in an operating room and had been pronounced clinically dead during the procedure.

I said "It was a freak accident. Something to do with a sport, something with your legs. You were here to accomplish something important with the talent, but this freak accident ended your career."

He agreed, told me he had been playing soccer and encountered a completely freak accident, and had been rushed to surgery. Surprised. I continued.

"I see a shot gun. Before that event, someone else died. It was a murder. And you could have stopped it, but you didn't."

He started to agree verbally. He didn't tell me anything more back than what I had just said, but was emotional about the story, and it rang true for him and he admitted it was true.

I was puzzling over the story myself, how were these events related? And why was there a bridging line over the gap in his lifeline? What did it mean? The gap was so clearly there.

"And you felt different after you woke up from the operation - like a totally different person."

Then he couldn't contain himself and started to tell me about how he liked different things, different colors, different music. His friends all noticed too - he was like a different person after he came back and he couldn't figure it out at all, and it bothered him so much.

"You felt guilty about not stopping the murder when you could have, and when you died on the operating table, you made a swap. Your mission in this life was over, so there was no point in you returning, and you could make amends to the person who died by swapping with them on the operating table, so they could continue to do what they were here to do. So that's what you did."

He was astonished, and it's like everything clicked for him.

"What kind of music did that person like? Is it what you like now?" We started to go through the similarities between the other person and him, and there it was - the evidence that could explain why he felt so different, and so confused, after resuscitation.

He was happy; he was ecstatic, he was elated. He practically ran to the kitchen to get the next order that was waiting for another table.

We talked a bit more before I left. "Are you able to find out more about that other person now?" He affirmed that he could. "Learn as much as you can about that other person now, because you are him." That suggestion seemed to register in his mind.

I left, and as I was driving away, another thought came to me. It was so strong I had to turn around and go back to the restaurant.

I went back in and asked for him. They called him out from the kitchen and I took him aside. "There's one more thing I have to tell you. I don't know what this means, but I need to tell you that you don't have to get married."

"You meant I don't have to get married?" He was incredulous.

"No, you don't have to get married."

If he was elated before, then he was walking on cloud nine now. He was so so very happy that I told him that; tremendously relieved. I didn't ask, but as I left, my guess was that the body he came into had been engaged to be married, and the new persona of course did not want to honor that commitment. Nor should it have to, because technically, they weren't the same person - or perhaps better phrased, they weren't the same consciousness. So I would imagine then that an engagement was broken, and a life's work was continued, in a different body.